Beetlesmith's Ch. 27

It took me the rest of the evening, but by daybreak I had finished telling them the unvarnished truth. Surprisingly, after hearing the monumental mistake I made that fucked over all our lives, the women didn't see fit to draw and quarter me out of righteous vengeance. Instead, they left me alone and locked themselves in the master bedroom for the rest of the day, leaving me with only my battered conscience to keep me company. Sick with guilt, I left them alone.

Besides the insurmountable guilt that I felt, I was beginning to drown in fear and hopelessness. The weight of it all, knowing that I had doomed not only my wife and friends, but most of the known world, was rendering me incapable of doing anything but give in, curl up into a fetal position and wait for the world's ending. However, I couldn't allow myself the indulgence of self-pity. As long as I was still breathing and thinking, I needed to at least try and find a solution out of the deep, dark pit I put everyone into.

So as the women wept, I set about examining the only clue I had, the old client list I stole from Beetlesmith. He told me all but two on the list would die. So, I took to the list and took to the web, and as the hours ticked by, I ticked off, one by one, the names of the patrons who had been murdered ten years earlier.

It was around midnight when the women emerged from the bedroom. I was just finishing my research when they found me in the study. Their eyes were red and swollen and their cheeks were encrusted with the tell-tail signs of dried tears.

I tried to tell them again how remorseful I was, but Karen raised a hand, stopping me from adding shabby insult to injury.

"What's done is done, Will. We don't need to hear any more apologies." She took a deep breath before continuing, "We were going to leave. Go someplace away from you... away from here... and hide from this Beetlesmith character and all the shit you brought down on our heads. But we realized we're all tied at the hip. The way you say it, there is no hiding. Not anymore. So, either we're all going to escape or all of us are going to..." Fighting through the tears, she couldn't finish her morbid thought, and instead, said, "So we need to figure a way out of this. Tell us you have something."

I asked Gloria and Denise, "Do you all agree to this decision? I would understand if you left, but like Karen says, I don't think leaving and hiding are an option."

Gloria nodded her head.

Denise, on the other hand, said, "I don't understand. Why don't we just... I can't believe I'm even suggesting this... why don't we just kill the asshole? If what you say is true and he means us harm, we have every right to stick it up his ass first. I say find him and kill the bastard before he does the same to us!"

Denise never believed the supernatural part of my tale. She was too rational a person to accept, sight unseen, the existence of creatures from another dimension that act as proxies for God and the Devil, or that Hell does exist, and it was our destination because of some trivial sins involving consensual sex.

I answered her, "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, but Beetlesmith is just a middleman. I know it's hard for you to believe, but there is something more powerful and malignant at work behind him. Besides, I already tried killing the prick and failed. He's too well protected."

Karen asked, "Before we left the club last night you said there may be someone who knows a way out of this. Who is it and will they help?"

"This is the old client list of Beetlesmith's that I mentioned," I answered, handing her the list of names, "You'll notice that two of the names are not crossed off. You probably recognize one of them."

Karen's face went purple with rage. "Gareth! It figures that greasy cocksucker would be involved in this shit"

"You mean that creep who runs that bondage club on sixth?" Gloria asked, rhetorically.

"The very same," I answered, "Up until about ten years ago, Sean Gareth was a successful stockbroker. Then suddenly, he opens The Cage near mid-town, catering almost exclusively to the S and M crowd. It was a very profitable and popular place with the devotees. That is until Roman Wilderness. Competition from us sent his business into a slide."

"What about this Francis Kahelane?" Denise asked, as she scanned the list.

"Almost the same history as Gareth. Ten years ago, he was a corporate lawyer for a brokerage firm. But unlike Gareth, he's dropped off the face of the earth. I still haven't been able to locate him. I'm hoping he's still alive and that Gareth knows something of his whereabouts. I'm also hoping Gareth can tell us something about a solution to our situation."

Karen asked the million-dollar question, "What about these other names? Why are they crossed off?"

"It's best you don't know."

"No more secrets, Will. No more lies."

I still hesitated to tell her, but she was right. No more secrets. "They are not among the living."

It took a few moments for that realization to sink in, and then she blurted, "What?! All of them?! There must be over a hundred names!"

"They all died around the same time, ten years ago."

Karen's voice shuddered and cracked, as she vocalized what was on all their minds, "Oh Will, what the fuck have you gotten us into?"

I didn't have the heart, or wherewithal, to tell them that even death was the least of our problems now.

"I'm sorry. I didn't find out about any of this until it was too late. I kept trusting the wrong person."

Denise asked, "Okay, so what can these two men do for us?"

"I don't know yet, but they've been through what we are going through and lived. They may know something that can help us." Seeing Denise cock an eyebrow in disbelief, I added, "As I see it, it's the only chance we have."

Gloria broke in, frustrated, "And what if they don't know anything? As far as I can see, what they did or didn't know, didn't really help them. From what you say it certainly didn't help anyone else on this list."

"I just know they're alive. At least Gareth is, and I'm hoping this Kahelane is as well. Remember, these two guys were probably just like me. They were being lied to and manipulated the whole time. And at the time it was happening to them, they didn't see the clues that may have gotten them out of their predicament. But now, in hindsight, they may know of something they could have done but didn't recognize it until it was too late. That's what I'm hoping for. It's a start, at least."

Karen asked, "Okay, so what do we do?"

"I'm going to have a talk with Gareth. Pick his brain and find out all he knows."

"We're going too!"

"I think that's a bad idea..."

Karen interrupted with dripping sarcasm, "Worse than you getting us cursed and condemned?"

"I see your point."

"Like I said, we're all in this together, joined at the hip. We're going with!" Karen finished, emphatically.

I sighed, deeply, "All right. It's about one in the morning. I suggest we get some sleep and then go to Gareth's club at closing. That should be around four. There'll be fewer people milling around by then."

One thing I didn't tell them because I saw no point, there was one other option that I was prepared to do. The idea hit me during my last conversation with Beetlesmith, but it was extreme. So extreme that there would be no turning back once tried, at least for me. However, I thought there was a chance to set matters to right if I succeeded, or, at the very least, keep the rest of the world from plunging into darkness and horror.

**

There were no doormen outside Gareth's establishment, but the lights above the door were still on, suggesting 'The Cage,' as it was called, was still open. When I opened the door to go in, I was greeted by a muscular young fellow in leather garb. A tazer hung from his belt at the ready.

Rudely putting his hand on my chest to stop me, he said, "Sorry pal, we're closing. Besides, I don't recognize you as a member. Take your sluts and go. And next time, sign up and pay membership fees before coming back."

"I'm Will Henry. You should recognize my name, at least. I want to talk to your boss."

"I don't care who the fuck you are, we're closing. Sean doesn't see anyone after hours. Come back when you've joined the club."

"He'll see me. Tell him I'm here about Beetlesmith."

He started moving his hand toward the tazer, but I stopped him with a glare and said with quiet malice, "Tell him. Will Henry. Beetlesmith."

Dropping his hand, he looked me up and down one last time before saying, "Wait here."

He was back a few minutes later, this time absent the tazer. "Follow me."

The main floor of the club was in the basement of a large brownstone, where the upper two floors were converted into individual and specialized play areas for the members. As he led us down concrete stairs, the pervasive odor of old blood and stale sex became overpowering.

Karen commented under her breath, "Jesus, does Wilderness smell this bad after an evening of fun?"

"No," I whispered, "The first thing that goes when a business falls on hard times is personnel. The second is sanitation and standards."

When we hit the bottom of the stairs, a spacious room opened in front of us. A few patrons were still dressing and getting ready to leave, while various male and female staff, dressed in the traditional garb of the sadomasochist, mingled about or sat at the bar smoking and drinking. They all took long, curious glances in our direction. Dimly lit corridors extended left and right, going further into the bowels of the substructure--probably leading to more extreme specialty rooms than those of the upper floors.

I saw the sigil of Asmodeus stamped on every forehead--patron and professional alike. Karen noticed it too, and out of fear, squeezed my hand for comfort.

I caught sight of a small fellow, impeccably dressed, standing by an open door on the other side of the room. I knew Sean Gareth by name but not by sight--until now. I recognized him as an occasional guest of Wilderness when he was spying on his competition.

He loudly clapped his hands in mock celebration, "As I live and breathe, Tiberius the great and his lovely wife Vipsania, and all followed by their dutiful court courtesans, no less." Putting a well-manicured finger across his lips, he continued slyly, "Now don't tell me. It's been a while. Ah, yes, the exquisitely lush Domina Gloria and the very talented Domina Denise. It's such an honor to finally have the great family as my guests. It's too bad big tits Jackie isn't with you. We could have had a real party."

"Interesting place you have here, Gareth. A bit gloomy, though."

"Ha. Interesting indeed, but gloomy? More like bankrupt. The gloom spreads from my financial woes like a virus. Yet, I see sunshine on the horizon. There's a wonderful rumor I've just heard that you're shuttering the doors to Wilderness."

"That was quick. Ill news travels fast. Where did you hear that?"

"I have my sources. And ill news? Not from my perspective. You left unexpectedly early last night, and I hear you won't be attending tonight. Some of your members were distressed and speculating wildly about what it all means."

"You heard correctly. We're walking away from the club."

Gareth clapped his hands again, "Wonderful! Wonderful! I don't mind telling you that for the past few months The Cage has been circling the bowl and leaving skid marks on the way down."

Karen saw an opening. Taking a great whiff through her nostrils, she commented, "Yes, skid marks. Apt description for your establishment, Sean."

"Such a rapier-like wit you have, and so deadly to the ego when mixed with that cunning tongue. But that's what I always liked about you, Vipsania, you have a mind, and your oral finesse isn't just limited to lapping cum off sated cocks."

I ignored the banter, and said to Gareth, "Since I've done you a large kindness by removing your competition, maybe you can return the favor."

"Ah yes, Beetlesmith. Chubby fellow; sells knock-off antiques and magic potions. How is the old fraud?"

"Still an asshole."

Gareth answered, laughingly, "Sounds like you know him as well as me. What else could I add to that apt depiction?"

"Humor me."

"All right, step into my office."

Karen, Denise and Gloria attempted to follow Gareth and me when he stopped them, "Only Tiberius. Or should I say Mr. Henry, now. You bitches can wait out here."

Slightly irritated, I commented, "Come on Gareth. We all want to hear what you have to say."

"No dice, amigo. My club, my rules. If you want to hear what I have to say, then they stay out here."

"Fucking asshole," Karen huffed.

Gareth wasn't going to let the insult go, and retorted, laughingly, "I got into your club a few times. I wanted to check out your operation. You know, figure out how to beat the competition. You probably don't remember, but during one of my visits you and I were involved in the most exquisite three-hour orgy in that pool area."

"Yeah, I remember, you slimy toad," Karen said in anger and embarrassment, "Why don't you shut up about it now and go talk with Will."

Gareth ignored her, "Watching you perform with the masses, I knew right then and there my business was doomed. You can't compete when your competition's wife is the most experienced whore you ever met." Bending closer to me and adding in a mock whisper, "I don't think I ever saw anyone take on as much cock and pussy at one time. It was shocking to watch, even for me. When we were in the thick of it, after I came across her lips a third time, she took two up the ass and another duce in the cunt. It was quite an anatomical feat. And you can't imagine how many hard dicks she got off with that cunning mouth while she bounced up and down like a pile driver on those four cocks. I swear, she must have serviced at least half the club by herself. Members were lined up all the way to the bath houses waiting their turn."

A droll smile creased my lips as I lifted an amused eyebrow toward Karen, "Of all the things I envisioned that could possibly happen using the elixir, it never occurred to me that it would create a Frankenstein's monster."

She immediately turned red while trying to defend herself, "I didn't know it was him. If I had..."

"You probably would have fucked the whole club, instead. Twice!" Gareth finished in the most insulting manner.

Seeing the scornful look Karen was glaring and now visually telling him to shut up, he added with a chuckle, "Vipsania, you're no different than most women I know. You love being a whore. You just don't like being called one. You're all total hypocrites."

Growing tired of his gossip, I pressed, "Let's continue this in your office."

"You're right. I shouldn't gloat," then turning to a small blonde wearing a leather halter and heavy eyeliner, he commanded, "See to their every comfort while Mr. Henry and I talk."

**

His office was spacious but sparsely decorated. He got himself a drink while snubbing me. He did offer me a chair to sit in, though. Once he was situated behind a large desk across from me, he asked, "Well now, Beetlesmith. What about him?"

"From start to finish, I'd like to know every interaction you had with him."

"Why? You writing a book?"

"Sure. Think of it that way. I'm writing a biography, 'The demented Beetlesmith and the degenerate chumps he fooled.'

"Speak for yourself, Henry. From what I know, you're a hundred times the degenerate I ever was. Insulting me won't get you very far."

"My apologies, I always thought we were birds of a feather. Be that as it may, tell me everything that transpired between you two. No matter how mundane it might seem, I'd like to hear it."

"Henry, that was almost ten fucking years ago. I can't remember every detail of every interaction I had with the fat prick. Besides, after my dealings with him, I've tried to forget most of it."

"Just humor me, please."

Gareth let out a final sigh of irritation before beginning his tale.

It was a jumbled, nonlinear mess of a story as he repeatedly jumped forward and backward in time describing different events out of sequence between him and Beetlesmith. I let him talk for almost half an hour, stopping him only to ask a question or two for clarification. The more he talked, however, the more my heart sank as it became obvious he knew nothing more about Beetlesmith than as a purveyor of the elixir.

Hearing enough, I finally stopped him, "And the whole time you used the elixir you saw or felt no changes in yourself or in those around you?"

"Other than the ability to fuck any tasty piece of ass I slipped the drug to, no."

"How did it end? Your dealings with him, I mean."

"One day I was making my usual weekly visit to buy more elixir, and he said, 'No more.' That one of his clients had broken that stupid rule of his, and 'presto-change-o,' everyone was cut off. Just like that. Right out of the blue. No more magic potion. I tried to reason with him, but he was adamant that I should shred my client list and never come back."

"And that was it?"

"Oh, I went back a few more times in disguises, trying to buy some on the sly, but he saw through them and told me to get the hell out of his shop or he'd call the cops."

I handed the list to him, saying, "This should be familiar."

He scanned over the pages for a moment before saying, "Sure, it's my client list. I guess this is how you know of my connection with Beetlesmith."

"Did you ever try to contact the other clients?"

"What for? You know as well as I do Beetlesmith banned communication with anyone concerning his precious drug. So why risk pissing him off by talking?"

"What about after he cut you off? Did you try to contact any other client?"

Gareth hesitated before answering with a curt, "No."

I sensed that was a lie. "What do you think happened to the other clients after getting cut off?"

"I don't know. Went back to doing whatever it was they were doing before meeting Beetlesmith, I guess."

He tried to hand back the list, but I told him to keep it. Wadding the sheets into a ball, he threw them into a waste can and then asked in a tone of dismissal, "Anything else?"

"What about you, Gareth? You went from being a stockbroker to becoming a fine devotee of specialty acts and S and M. It seems like you changed your life in the extreme. What happened?"

For a moment, his eyes watered and I could tell he suddenly fell into the grips of extreme emotion. Regaining his composure, he answered, "Not that it's any of your business, but right after Beetlesmith told everyone to fuck off, my wife and daughter were killed in a car accident. I lost interest in trading after that. And during my use of the drug, I developed a taste for the exotic. So, I expanded on it by opening this club to... to refine those tastes further." Finishing his drink, he stood up and said, "We done? I'm tired and have had enough of your questions...."

"And you contacted none of the other clients?"

"I told you. No!"

"Not even Francis Kahelane?"

He sat back down in a huff. "You just won't let it go, will you?"

"You know him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I know the asshole. He was the one who introduced me to the elixir and Beetlesmith, and I've pissed on the memory of that day ever since."

"So, you did contact clients; before, during, and after, and in violation of Beetlesmith's code."

"It was only the one client. Fuck Beetlesmith and fuck his code. He can't tell me who I can and can't talk to. And I'm certainly going to stay in contact with my older brother... well, stepbrother." He noticed the surprised look I gave him, and continued, "You really didn't know. Interesting. We have different fathers, you see. Our mother was always a bit flighty when it came to marriage. Then again, maybe it was just the men she married. Real dickheads. Either way, Francis and I weathered those storms well enough."

Hearing this revelation, all I thought was how I could have missed reading the deep emotional ties he had bottled up inside: his wife and daughter getting killed, Kahelane his stepbrother, turning Gareth onto the elixir and somehow got him to be a client. That must have been some conversation between Beetlesmith and Kahelane when the stepbrother was introduced. And I'm wondering now why Beetlesmith didn't sever all ties to the clients right then and there.

"So, your stepbrother brought you to the curio shop knowing it was a violation of Beetlesmith's code?" I asked rhetorically. "Funny you didn't mention that during your summation."

"Like I said, it was a long time ago. Besides, what difference does it make? Who cares about how I became a client? You just wanted to know about my interactions with the old dickhead, not everybody else's."

"Where can I find him?"

"Who? Beetlesmith?"

"Your stepbrother."

"Oh, go screw. Why should I tell you?"

"Why not? You said he's an asshole. What difference does it make whether I talk to him?"

"He may be an asshole, but that doesn't mean I'm going to give out his address to any fuck-stick who asks."

"Goddamn it, I need to talk to him. Where is he?"

"Go fuck yourself! Now get out!"

Pissed at his stubbornness, I gave him the harsh reality hoping it would change his mind or at least hurt him a little, "You want to know what happened to the other clients on your list? They're all dead! Your wife and daughter are dead! I suspect everyone you ever loved or knew is dead, except for your stepbrother. And the same thing is going to happen to those on my list and to everyone I love, unless I can talk to him!"

His careless disregard and ruthless indifference about those in his life surprised even me, as he said, "I know all about that. Shit happens, amigo."

"You're not going to lift a finger? You're going to let it happen all over again? You're going to let all these people die for no fucking reason..."

"People die every day, asshole, what's a few more. Look, when I got out alive, I told myself I'd stay the hell away from Beetlesmith or anyone else who had dealings with him. I prefer to live, thank you very much."

"I have money. Lots of money. More money than even you can imagine, Gareth. Quote me your biggest annual income from your club before Wilderness and I'll double it." He didn't answer and just sat there letting me stew. Noticeably losing my cool and with my voice full of desperation, I blurted, "I'll quadruple it, Gareth! Just tell me where I can find him!"

"No amount of money can get me back in bed with that murdering fuck! Besides, with Wilderness on the outs, I'll start making back the money I was losing. Thanks so much for that, too, dickhead. Now, you can get out!"

I was in a rage. I hadn't felt this murderous since I discovered what Beetlesmith was doing to me. I took a step toward Gareth with the intension of breaking his neck after I beat Kahelane's whereabouts out of him.

Gareth smiled, and said, "Go ahead. Take another step. If you even touch me, it will guarantee I'll never tell you. You can bet on that."

I took a deep breath to calm myself. "Alright, I'll find out where he's at another way, and when I do, I'll come back and finish this conversation. It will be a short and painful one for you. And you can bet on that, prick."

"Promises, promises," he said, as I turned to leave.

Walking back into the main club room I found Karen, Gloria, and Denise stripped naked. They were on their knees, side-by-side, their arms and legs bound with leather wrist to ankle restraints. Each had a ball gag in their mouth, stifling their cries. A burly male Dom was standing behind each of them, while the small blonde with the heavy mascara was walking back and forth in front of them carrying a switch--and from all appearances, she had already used it with great effect on their exposed breasts, thighs, and bellies. Tears streamed from their eyes as they glowered daggers of hate at their tormentor.

All I pictured in my mind was breaking bones and shredding flesh to screams of agony, and my only question was how Karen allowed this to happen? She had the power to keep any and all of these turds from molesting them with just a thought. Why didn't she stop them?

Gareth came up behind me. I didn't turn around to look at him but said loudly making sure everyone in the room heard, "You really do want to die tonight. You have no idea what your stupid cunt just put in motion."

"Calm down, Henry. I wonder how much you'll pay me to let them go. Your last bid was quadruple a year's income. Care to up that?"

"How about I let you keep your miserable life," I answered with quiet malice.

Gareth didn't respond.

Walking past me and into the main room, he took the switch from the blonde and stopped in front of Karen and Denise. He tickled their breasts playfully with the switch, sensuously running it under and over their sensitive mounds and teasing their hardening nipples. The two women flinched in revulsion at his touch.

Keeping his back to me, he said, "I have a counter proposal. You like sharing your women with the great unwashed." He paused for a moment, demanding an answer. When I didn't provide one, he cocked an ear in my direction, and said, "I didn't hear you."

"I don't own people. They can do what they like."

Gareth answered, laughingly, "And they certainly like sucking and fucking. Tiberius the great, cuckolded by his whore wife and his equally perverted mistresses. You should have worn tiny horns and really play the part as cuckold when you sat on your throne."

Bending low, Gareth kissed Denise's cheek. Denise scrunched up her face in disgust as she tried to turn her face away from him. He smiled at her revulsion, and said directly at her, "Such a talented whore mistress, too; although, I found you too old for me. I was never into granny porn, but on the few occasions I visited your club, I did admire your talents from afar. You were always deep into one of those games that big tits Jackie bitch was orchestrating. And the joy that was on your face each time you serviced a well-endowed young man with your mouth was delightful. I love a whore that takes enthusiasm and pride in her work, particularly one as insatiable for young, hard cock as you. Maybe I should break with preferences and give that succulent mouth a try." Straightening up, he added laughingly as a final insult, "Maybe you can gum me to orgasm, granny."

Stepping in front of Karen, he put a finger below her chin and lifted her face toward his. "But I have tried you, sweet Vipsania." Then facing me, he said, "Funny, but I don't even know her real name."

He waited for an answer I wouldn't provide. Finally, the small blonde piped in, "It's Karen."

"Karen? That's a rather ordinary name for such an extraordinary whore. I like Vipsania better. That one time we had together was magnificent. But with all the cock you fucked and sucked that night, I doubt you remember me."

With that, Gareth unzipped his fly and pulled out his flaccid cock. Touching the tip to Karen's ball gag, he said, "Remember me now? No? Let me try this."

He stroked himself into an impressive nine-inch erection. A small drop of pre-ejaculate fluid emerged from the tip, and he proceeded to smear it over Karen's face.

Karen struggled weakly against the restraints as her eyes glared hate at him with the heat of a thousand suns. If looks could kill, Gareth and his whole miserable staff would already be scraping their tits and balls off the ceiling.

I tried not to smile, picturing what Karen will do to him when free. "Gareth, you are the longest winded bastard I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Why don't you get on with whatever it is you want and give me your fucking counter proposal."

He turned to face me, "Oh, Tiberius the cuckold speaks. Patience cuckold, this is my show. For a whole year I had to eat your shit while Roman Wilderness was growing by leaps and bounds and putting me out of business. Now, you get to eat mine. How does it taste, tiger?"

He turned back to Karen. Taking her head in both his hands, he pressed his erection firmly against her face and slowly dry-humped her. Laughingly, he added, "Hey cuckold, I bet you saw this a lot in the club as the members took turns with her. Getting hard yet, cuckold?"

"Gareth, I amend what I said before. Not only are you a long-winded prick but you're a stupid one as well. What do you think I'm going to do to you once you give me the information I want?"

"If I give you the information, cuckold. Got that? If! And you'll do nothing unless you want my boys to break your arms in three or four places." He thought for a moment and chuckled. "So that would make you an impotent cuckold as well."

He moved away from Karen who was still glaring at him and returned her glare with a sadistic smile. "You were sweet, Vipsania... I mean Karen. Sweet like so many others I've had, and like all those others, once you strip away all of the frills and thrills of fervent sex, all you are is an oversexed cum dump. Beautiful, to be sure, but still a cum dump."

He stepped behind Gloria. And as he smoothed her hair behind an ear, he got to his point. "Yes, you share your women, but I've heard you don't share all of them. My spies tell me they've never seen Gloria doing anyone else but you. Every night she's constantly by your side watching the orgies, except when she steals away to be worked on by the Doms. But I also hear they never fuck her, even though they have the tools to pleasure any women as many times as she could beg. They just get her ready for your arrival in the dungeons. Are my spies correct?"

"I suppose so."

"You suppose? I'll take that as a yes. Gloria must be special to you. It must kill you thinking about one of the grimy club members even touching her, let alone sticking his rancid dick inside her. And then I'm thinking, what must Karen feel like knowing you treat one of your mistresses with more reverence than her? She must seethe knowing precious Gloria doesn't need to play the whore for the masses. And I bet if there was one wish that could be granted, it would be her desire to see Gloria gangbanged shitless. Should we find out, cuckold?"

There it was unfolding before my eyes, the ultimate blunder of an arrogant asshole so full of himself that he vomits hubris with every word he spoke. I wouldn't even have to do a thing, just watch the idiot fall into the trap he's setting for himself. I thanked my lucky stars for this situation, or maybe I should thank Asmodeus. Either way, I couldn't have asked for a timelier nor sweeter act of revenge.

I just smiled at him as an answer.

My ladies saw the blunder, too; and although they couldn't smile, an unmistakable glint of satisfaction warmed their lovely eyes.

"Here's my counter proposal Tiberius, I'll give you the information you want once I've fucked your precious Gloria six ways to Sunday."

I paused and shifted my gaze back and forth between him and Gloria, making it appear I was pondering his moronic offer. I even asked Gloria with mock concern, "I know you don't want to do this, but I need you to let it happen. Are you okay with it, baby?"

She slowly nodded her head.

"All right, but just you, Gareth. You're such big man with captives so leave your boys out of it. I want to see if you got what it takes to make her squirt, and believe me, it's going to take more than just a sizable dick."

"Excellent," he said with exuberance, "Oh, one more thing. You'll stand alongside and watch as I do her." Turning to one of his Doms, Gareth snapped his fingers, and ordered, "Remove her restraints, but leave the gag in." While removing his pants, he added, "Just drape the tasty bitch over one of those bar stools. And bring some lube just in case."

Once Gloria was situated, Gareth came up behind her and dabbed some lube around her opening and worked his thumb inside her pussy. He commented, "Your precious is already slicker than snake shit. I don't think I really needed the lube." Removing his thumb from her pussy, he spread her cheeks and pressed his thumb firmly against her asshole, and commented, "Tight. Very tight. What's up Tiberius, I thought you were a horse. You should have worn out this hole long ago. Oh well, more for me to do once I fuck that scrumptious pussy of hers."

Squaring himself to Gloria's bottom, Gareth took a firm hold of her hips. Then taking one more arrogant look at me, he slowly pushed forward.

I have never witnessed it first-hand, and I'm glad. It was nothing less than gruesome.

There was a bright flash of white light accompanied by a soft popping sound the moment his cock touched Gloria's labia. And just before the inevitable blood-curdling screams commenced, I saw his hard cock appear to glow from within with a green light while yellow puss ooze from the tip of his now withering dick. It was like watching cellophane shrivel into a tight, little ball when touched by heat. His tool collapsed to the size of a raisin.

Gareth belted out an abrupt and sickening scream before falling to the floor. He writhed around like the body of a snake with its head cut off, clutching his groin in agony. Then his screams became even louder and more intense as the real pain began to set in.

Thinking I had done something to his boss, one of his leather-clad goons came rushing in where angels fear to tread. He put a hand on my shoulder with the intension of turning me around to face him.

I grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm away from me. The effect surprised even me.

Everyone heard a sharp snap followed by an abrupt scream. The goon fell next to his boss, clutching his arm in abject pain. His forearm was bent at a hideous angle, and jagged, splintered bone pierced the skin about mid-way above his wrist.

Quick as lighting, another slow learner plowed his way toward me. I just put out my hand like a city cop gesturing oncoming traffic to stop. Hitting my outstretched hand, the goon was propelled backward a good ten feet. It would have been further, but he slammed into a wooden four-by-four support pillar, nearly breaking it in two. He dangled there in the crook of the break for a second before sliding to the floor, unconscious.

"I guess I don't know my own strength." Then looking at those that were still in the room, I asked, "Anyone else want to play?"

Doms and dommes alike backed away from me and into the shadows of the room. But before they could run and hide completely, my eye caught a flash of gold. There she was--blondie.

Seeing the look of murder in my eye she tried to quickly move away. I grabbed her by the throat with one hand and firmly squeezed. "Not you, bitch."

Lifting her up so that her feet dangled in mid-air, I commanded, "You have five seconds to get those restraints and gags off them, or I'll let my ladies spring your eyeballs out of your fetid skull with a greasy spoon. And you better believe they're in the mood to do it."

Gareth was still writhing along the floor as I knelt on one knee beside him. "You need to pay your spies better. Your intel on me and Wilderness is woefully inaccurate. This has happened a couple of times at the club. Messy business. Puts a damper on the whole evening."

I could see the pain was insurmountable for him, and he wasn't paying attention. Slapping him hard across the face, I bellowed, "You listening asshole?! I need you to focus on my voice right now! You see what I can do? If you need another demonstration, I'll snap your spine and let you spend the rest of your life in a wheelchair, shitting into a plastic bag. Nod if you understand."

He did.

"Now, here's my counteroffer to your insulting counteroffer, you tell me what I want to know, and I'll fix you."

"Hamilton," he blurted out though grit teeth with raspy breath, "Small burb... up state. M-Monastery... outside of town. H-He pays the... Jesus fucking C-Christ stop the pain! P-Please!"

"Go on."

"He pays the J-Jes... uits. They let him stay there."

"Very good. Now, if I find out you're lying..."

"I-It's gold... I s-swear. Now fix me! Please!"

I saw that my ladies were dressed and ready. Standing, I smiled down at him for the last time. "Sorry asshole, but a curse is a curse, and I could never fix it. Enjoy what's left of your miserable life." Turning to the three of them, I asked, "Ready to go?"

"Fuck yes!" Gloria exclaimed for all of them.

We were all making our way to the exit when, out of the blue, Karen turned and laid the little blonde out with a vicious haymaker to the temple. She stood over the blonde's prostrate form and roared, slowly, perfectly accentuating every syllable, "You! Fucking! Cunt!" And with each syllable she bellowed, Karen stomped her foot down into the blonde's chest, cracking two or three ribs in the process. Spitting on her as an exclamation point, Karen again cocked a knee with the intension of kicking the unconscious domme one last time in the head. The blow would have certainly caused brain damage, if not death.

"Karen! Don't. She isn't worth it."

Karen took a moment to get control of her anger and then released two more wicked blows to the blonde's already cracked ribs before making her way quickly to the stairs.

**

We were about half an hour down the road and heading home when Karen broke the silence, "So, when did you become the Incredible Hulk?"

"I think I always could. I just never needed to get that physical until now. The old adage, 'You never know if you can do something until you try,' is true."

"You think you can do it again?"

"I don't know. Maybe for a little while longer."

"So, what did we get out of all this?"

"The location of the second man."

"That's it?! A location? Well, that's bullshit! I thought you said if you talked to this fucker he'd tell us how to get us out..."

"I said he might know something. He didn't."

"Fuck me," Karen said under her breath, frustrated.

I squeezed her thigh lovingly, trying to comfort her, and asked, "But what about you? How did you end up on your knees with a ball gag stuffed in your mouth?"

Denise answered, "It was right after you went into his office. Three of his apes came up from behind us and held us tight. Before any of us could scream they clamped their hands over our mouths. Then that cunt-faced blonde started pulling our clothes off and making threats to keep us quiet while they put the cuffs on and shoved the gags in. Then that bitch really had some fun with that switch. You sure took your sweet time in the office, Will! That cunt kept hitting us every time we squirmed. And Karen, the next time you punch that bitch's lights out, stick that switch up her ass sideways! Or at least follow through and kick her teeth in, as well!"

"Will wouldn't have approved," Karen answer, sarcastically. Denise hadn't understood the true meaning of my question, but Karen did, "I tried to resist. To do something, anything, but nothing worked. I mean... nothing. I was helpless. What does it mean?"

"Gareth was a blank to me. I couldn't read him. He lied the whole time I talked to him, but I didn't pick up on it. I've been encountering a lot of blanks lately, more than ever. I think our powers are fading. They're being taken back."

"How do you know this?"

"Something Beetlesmith said, 'Every time a part of him crosses over and makes contact with you, a little bit of him is left behind.' He wants those 'little bits' he left in us, back. Maybe he even needs them back? I don't know."

"Beetlesmith?" Karen said, incredulously, "We're back to listening to that cocksucker?"

I shrugged. "I know, but it's the only thing I've got."

"Fucking great," she said.

We fell quiet in the car again, each of us deep in our own thoughts.

As we reached the outskirts of our town, I heard Karen ask, quietly, "Will, tell us the truth. How safe are we? What's going to happen to us when our powers are totally gone?"

"I think you and Gloria are the safest people on the planet. You're too valuable."

Karen correctly guessed why, "Because of..." She didn't finish, and instead, wrapped her hands over her belly.

"Yes."

"What about those who can't become broodmares, Will? What becomes of them?" Denise asked with her voice quivering.

I looked at her in the rearview mirror. She was staring back at me, eyes watering, and demanding an answer I couldn't give. I didn't have the courage or heart.

She held my gaze for a moment more and then turned her head away to silently to look out the window at the passing landscape.

**

As soon as I opened the door to our home, Denise ran up the stairs, sobbing.

Karen was going to follow our distraught friend, but I held her back. "I think she needs to be alone for a while."

She nodded her head, and then asked, "What's our next move?"

"Hamilton. To see this Kahelane person. I'm going to head up there shortly. And may I make a suggestion? This time, I'll go it alone and you three stay here."

Not wanting a repeat of what occurred at Gareth's place, Karen and Gloria said almost simultaneously, "Fucking-A right we're staying here!"

I was about to say something sarcastic, like: 'Better late than never to start listening to me,' but figured it would only trigger Karen into kicking me in the nuts.

A few moments later, Denise came back down the stairs and put her suitcase down near the front door. She just stood there for a moment, with her hands clasped in front of her and tears glistening on her cheeks, looking every bit a little girl. I felt a heavy sorrow touch my heart knowing what she had decided to do. Regrettably, all good things must come to an end.

"I guess this means goodbye," I said to her.

"I'm sorry Will, but I need to go. It's gotten too dangerous here, and I want to spend what little of my life I have left somewhere quiet... and maybe somewhere safe."

Karen was already crying. "Where are you going to go?"

"I have a sister who lives in New Mexico. I'm going to stay with her until I can figure out what to do. On the bright side, my daughter only lives a few hours away from her."

"Daughter?" Karen asked with genuine surprise, "I didn't know..."

"We've been estranged for some time. It's a long story."

Karen couldn't hold back any longer and went rushing up to her friend and wrapped her in her arms.

There in the middle of the living room they hugged without comment. Gloria and I were oblivious to them as they clutched each other, weeping torrents. They kissed and hugged and made futile attempts drying each other's eyes between heaving sobs. It was all done so innocently and sweet, as if they were sisters--there was no lust between them anymore, only love.

Their grief was interrupted by a car horn.

"That will be the cab," Denise said, forlornly, as she wiped the tears out of her eyes to compose herself.

"Don't go just yet. I have something for you," I said, as I went to the safe in my office.

When I got back, Denise was just finishing up saying goodbye to Gloria.

I opened a file folder and handed it to her, saying, "This is to a numbered account in the Caymans. Call the first number at the top and wait for the prompts. Below that is the account's username, repeat it into the phone when the program asks for it. The number at the bottom is the account passcode. Repeat the number when the program asks. That will activate the account giving you full ownership. After that you can transfer the money to any bank in the world."

"H-How much?"

"There's a little over 50 million dollars waiting for you." I almost laughed at the look she gave me. "Don't worry, that's a drop in the bucket of what we made this year. And for whatever reason it's not enough, don't hesitate to ask for more. You have our number."

"Not enough?!" She dropped the file and pulled me tight against her. She laughed a little, and said, "Well, at least I won't have to worry about going on welfare. Maybe I'll buy that villa in Monaco after all."

I held her tightly and thought of all the things I should say to her, but all I could manage to say was, "I'm sorry."

She kissed me sweetly on the lips, and said, "Don't be. You can sure show a girl the time of her life. I have no regrets, and you shouldn't either." She kissed me again, and asked, "Do you want your chain back?"

"It's yours. And if you ever wear it again, I hope it reminds you of us and happier times."

The cab honked again.

Without saying another word, she kissed Karen, hugged Gloria, picked up the file she dropped and her suitcase, and walked out of our lives forever.

**

We didn't say anything at first. After a while, Karen and Gloria sat on the couch, trying to console each other, and I decided to gather some things for my trip up to Hamilton.

When I got back to the living room, bag in hand, I felt I needed to tie off some loose ends before I left.

"Karen, there are two more file folders in the safe. The same kind I gave Denise. One of them is for Jackie. You'll know which one. Give it to her when you think the time is right and tell her the same things I told Denise on how to activate her account. The second folder is the remaining total of our earnings from Roman Wilderness. It's already activated and in your name. Gloria, your name is on our account as well. I figure half of what we have is yours."

Karen cried, "Wait a minute! You're talking like you're not coming back."

"I'll be back from Hamilton. I have no doubt," I lied, "I'm just making sure you know these things in case I forget. A lot's going to happen very quickly after I get back, and there may not be any time before..."

"Before what?! She blurted, as tears began to roll out of her eyes again.

"Karen don't make this harder for me than it already is. Please."

"Goddamn it, you tell me! Before what?!"

"Baby, don't you know? I'm not doing any of this for me. I'm doing it for you, and for Gloria and Denise, and well, for everyone else. This is the only way I think I can fix the mess I've gotten everyone into."

"But you said we'd be safe! Not less than an hour ago you said..."

"I said you and Gloria would be safe."

Karen was about to say something, but I cut her off, "Sweetheart, my goose was cooked the first time I walked into Beetlesmith's shop. What do you think happens to useful idiots once their usefulness is over? I have no illusions about that. That's why I built Roman Wilderness. It was to provide you and Gloria a measure of financial comfort once I'm gone."

"No goddamnit, don't say that! Don't you dare say that! I won't let you..." Her words were cut off by a wail as she fell into my arms. Gloria quickly followed her, hugging both of us.

Gloria turned her face up to me, and said almost as a plea, "There has to be something you can do?"

Smiling at her, I wiped her tears and kissed her on the lips while saying, "I don't think so. Not for me."

Then, something magical happened.

I felt the love and the heat between us as we wept together.

None of us wanted to leave each other's side. We wanted to stay together, wrapped up in ourselves and hide for as long as possible. Without thought of consequences or dire straits, we ignored our problems for a little while, and for the last time we made love until nightfall.

It was a gift from the Others, I think--a wonderful last meal for the condemned.

******

It took me a moment to remember where I was as I looked at the clock on the nightstand.

"Fuck, only three," I mumbled as I got up to relieve myself.

I got into town too late to go looking for the monastery, so I checked into a fleabag motel outside of Hamilton.

As with the ride into the city yesterday, the trip up to Hamilton was an exercise in guilt and a constant reminder at how much I fucked things up for the world. I saw the sigil of Asmodeus everywhere: men and women of all walks of life, pedestrians on sidewalks, people in shops and restaurants, cashiers and convenience store workers, as well as motel managers and staff alike. Everyone and nearly everything bore the sigil on their brow, and each time I saw it, my guilt crushed me further into myself until I felt claustrophobic and breathless. Once I got a room, I was at least hoping for one dreamless night, but even that was denied me by Asmodeus.

He had been interrupting my sleep for the past couple of nights. Normally our little talks were unproductive from my perspective. I suspect they were only used to stiffen my resolve in following through with my task while keeping me sleep-deprived. Other than that, he told me little information beyond what I already knew--except, this last time was different.

Asmodeus appeared genuinely confused when I mentioned the violent fight Karen and I had that one time so long ago when I was trying to abstain from the elixir. It was as if he had no knowledge of the event.

Could it be that he also had limitations, at least limitations in sight?

I now realize that at the time of our fight Karen was being manipulated by one of the Cruel Ones, and for whatever reason was provoking me into that almost homicidal confrontation. Thinking back on the event, and given Karen's importance to his plans, I didn't think it was Asmodeus himself that was manipulating her and pushing us into that violent confrontation. Rather, it was probably one of his minions, an incubus or succubus that was causing trouble.

What its reason was for causing trouble eluded me. I can only conclude that not only were the Cruel Ones sadistic in the extreme, but some were irretrievably stupid, as well. More importantly, I wasn't being manipulated by Asmodeus at that time in my life. I had effectively pushed him away through strength of will. He wasn't present at the time, and as such had no knowledge of the incident. At least that's what it seems.

I also found it odd he hasn't mentioned what I've been doing for the past couple of days, actively seeking out the only survivors from the previous list. I would think he'd try to dissuade me from talking with them. If for nothing else, the less information the useful idiot has--meaning me--the better. So, either he doesn't care what I'm doing, or he doesn't know. I'm hoping it's the latter.

With this new information, combined with the small bits of truth Beetlesmith inadvertently let out in our discussions, I was beginning to piece together the history of Asmodeus' manipulations of humanity.

Asmodeus needed sons. I had no idea why, but I was certain everything that was happening was centered on that fact.

After a certain time of distributing the elixir to the unsuspecting, a coven--or what I would consider a cohort--is established and is represented by Beetlesmith's client list. From that cohort, two are chosen to be the Yin-Yang, one of which will eventually be chosen to sire two sons.

I got the impression that this was going on for some time, as if it were the natural order of things, but the plan never works out. Something always goes wrong with it because no children are produced. And when it fails, everyone in the cohort is eliminated, everyone except the chosen ones, the Yin-Yang.

But why? Why leave survivors? It seemed unlikely that Asmodeus would show mercy. Why not just start over and corrupt a new group of useful idiots, choose the new duality--the Yin-Yang--from the new cohort and implement the plan again? It would seem simpler and more prudent to kill everyone and not leave any witnesses. Unless there was some overriding, cosmic importance to the two survivors.

For whatever reason, Gareth and Kahelane are alive because they needed to stay alive until the new duality is chosen from the next cohort. I suspect when it comes time for me to choose whether to impregnate Karen and Gloria, Gareth and Kahelane would then be eliminated. After which, me and my opposite, whoever that is, will assume the mantel of Yin and Yang.

If I was right, then I was as important to Asmodeus' plan as Karen and Gloria, and maybe more so. For some reason I, and those like me, were the key to perpetuating the cycle down through the ages--from cohort to duality to failed plan to a new cohort. Wash, rinse, repeat, the cycle continues, over and over, until, I suspect, the plan finally succeeds, and sons are born.

However, what happens if something disrupts the cycle? Could everything that has transpired since I became aware of Asmodeus' plan be relegated null and void, undone, set to zero? That was my one, true hope, break the current cycle, create a blank slate, and cause everything to start anew.

Given my importance in the grand scheme of things, the easiest way to break the cycle would be to remove myself from the equation. I guess I could remove the other, my opposite, and achieve the same outcome, but that wouldn't be right. This was my doing, so it was my cross to bear. That's why I already decided if nothing substantive came from my talk with Kahelane that I would end my life. And even if my extinction didn't break the cycle, it would, at least, keep my progeny from being born.

**

I arrived at the monastery in the early afternoon. I half expected a Medieval-like stone and mortar structure, but instead, the monastery was nothing more than a very large, early twentieth century two-story farmhouse. The type having lots of large rooms with high ceilings, built, I suspect, before there were cost concerns in heating such a large dwelling with lots of wasted space.

The house itself sat on sizable acreage, which was encircled by a vine-decorated stone wall having a gated entrance. Scattered about the property were several smaller cottages that were probably used by visiting clergy for quiet retreats and sabbaticals away from their parishes.

The gate was unlocked and creaked loudly as I opened it, and as I made my way to the entrance of the house, I saw a few of the Jesuits peering out the windows at my approach.

I was greeted by one of them and was surprised at his informal dress--blue jeans and flannel shirt. I wasn't surprised he bore the sigil, however. They all bore the mark.

"Unusual dress for a priest," I said as a greeting.

He must get that a lot and smiled at my wisecrack. "It's not all sandals, shrouds, and rosaries here. We do have a private life outside the church."

"Not diddling with little boys in your off hours, I hope."

This time he didn't respond to my wisecrack, which I now regret taking too far, and instead asked in a tone of annoyance, "Can I help you?"

"I've had a long trip and a sleepless night, please forgive my stupid comment. I'm looking for Francis Kahelane."

Even with my apology his smile didn't return. "You'll find him in the back. He's staying in the blue and white cottage closest to the vegetable garden."

As I entered the back yard, I noticed a slender man about my height with his back turned toward me. It looked as if he was staring out into the distance over a garden. As I neared him, he exhaled a gray plume of smoke from his pipe.

"Francis Kahelane?" I asked, loudly, "My name is Will Henry."

He continued smoking his pipe as he turned to face me. He didn't say anything at first. He just stared at me as I walked up to greet him with a handshake. As with the Jesuits, the mark of Asmodeus was clearly visible on his forehead.

Taking my hand, he finally said, "I've been expecting you."

"Have you?"

"Not you specifically, but someone like you." Breathing a heavy sigh of inevitability, he opened the door to his cottage, and said, "The hour must be getting close. Come in."

The cottage was a single room with a bed in one corner, a desk, a few sticks of furniture that resembled kindling rather than tables and chairs, and a small, wood-burning stove. Though the décor was Spartan, in the middle of the room were two overstuffed loungers, the type perfect for reading in, and arranged so that they faced each other. The display was eerily reminiscent of the two bondage chairs in the cave of my dreams.

"Have a seat Mr. Henry, while a make some tea. Would you care for some?"

"No. I was never one for tea. I'll take something stronger if you have it."

"Sorry. I never cared for spirits. Too bad about the tea, though, it's excellent." He put a kettle of water on the stove and continued with mundane small talk, which irritated me, "Not much of a kitchen, is it. The Jesuits want to keep things simple. They bring me my meals as part of their service. That is if you can call the thin gruel they serve a meal. I shouldn't complain, though. For a small fee they do provide a quiet, dry abode where I can lay my head and keep my precious anonymity. If you stay longer, I could have them bring you a portion with..."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I've come a long way, and I'm not very interested in dinner or your living arrang...."

"Have you now," he interrupted, "I'm sorry for your long journey, but I'm not sure I can tell you anything more than what you already know."

Frustrated, I blurted, "This is the same way my conversation started with that half-witted, half-brother of yours. You have got to know more than..."

"How is Sean?" He asked, interrupting me again

I sighed heavily. Kahelane wanted to go at his own pace. "I'd say he's seen better days." I didn't tell him why, for obvious reasons.

"No doubt. We all have." Having fixed his tea, he sat down in the chair opposite me with a steaming mug, filled a pipe, lit it, and then said, "Fire away, Mr. Henry."

"You know what's happening. Gareth didn't have a clue."

"That's the way it is with our opposites, I think. One person is chosen while the other just acts as a foil or counterbalance."

"You're talking about the Yin-Yang thing."

"That damnable Beetlesmith told you? Good. Then I assume he told you that all movement in the universe is due to the interaction between positive and negative forces."

"Yes, he enlightened me as much as he was willing. I found it unusual that you and your stepbrother ended up on the same list. It seems unlikely you both walked into Beetlesmith's shop at random."

"No, I introduced Sean to him after my first try of the elixir. To be honest, I was in love with his wife, Rachel. She was a wonderful woman and very beautiful, and I wanted my first time with the elixir to be with her. So, I gave the drug to her and Sean and my wife..." He paused for a moment, and then added, "And to my everlasting shame I gave it to their daughter, as well."

I guess he thought I'd be shocked by the revelation, but after everything I've experienced over the past two years, I came to one incontrovertible fact: incest was almost as commonplace as group sex when people became corrupted by the elixir.

"I understand. You loved the daughter as well. The more the merrier," I ended, flippantly.

"It wasn't just that. My wife Martha and I couldn't have children. I'm sterile, low motility or something. So, I always had a special affection for my niece. So did Martha, as I later found out."

"This is all very revealing, but it doesn't explain how you and your stepbrother came to be together on the same list."

"The next day after using the drug, Sean guessed that I did something to us all. I denied it, of course, but he wasn't one who could be put off. He continually nagged me over the next week while I continued to deny it. When he threatened me with exposure to my wife Martha and his wife and daughter, I eventually told him. After that, he demanded to see Beetlesmith."

"You took a hell of a risk violating Beetlesmith's rule for secrecy."

"He was livid when I showed up with Sean. And I was sure he would go through with his threat to banish everyone because of what I did, but right in the middle of his diatribe a funny look came over him. After that he quieted himself, and said he would make an exception this one time."

"Is that when he told you about everything, the real reason behind the elixir?"

"Oh no. That didn't come until later. Until near the end. No, for this first time he just sold Sean a vial of elixir."

"You had no idea Gareth was your opposite?"

"No."

"Did you ever get a sense how you and he were chosen and why?"

"I don't really know." Seeing my frustration, he added, "Much of what I'm telling you is just guesswork. It's been difficult to sift through Beetlesmith's bullshit, trying to figure out truth from half-truth from lie, and then make sense of it all."

"Yes, I understand, but you've at least been all the way through this process and have had time to think about what happened and possibly why."

"I don't know how I was chosen. I just was. As far as Sean being my opposite, his Yin to my Yang, the only thing I can think of is he was the first male I gave the elixir to. It's the only variable in my application of the elixir that makes sense... Sean being the first male, and as such, becoming my opposite. I guess if I had been a female, it would have been the first woman I gave the elixir to."

"You're sure of this?"

"I'm sure Sean was the first male. Everything else is just a guess."

I immediately thought of Jack Avery after hearing this revelation and planned to visit him after talking with Kahelane. He must be my opposite, my Yin.

Kahelane continued, "As to the why, I think when the Others start mucking up the natural order of things and directly influencing us to do good or evil, proxies must be established here on earth so that a balance is maintained. It's how the universe is gamed, I think. We represent a microcosm that must approximate the macrocosm of the universe. But unlike the macrocosm, we only represent a symbolic duality. Neither of us had any real power."

"What do you mean by, 'no power'? You didn't notice anything peculiar happening to you? Things like enhanced mental abilities? Being able to influence others to do what you want with just a thought?"

He looked genuinely confused by my question, before answering, "No. I always used the elixir to feed my desires."

"Do you see anything unusual about me, or about the Jesuits that serve you dinner?"

"Unusual? Like what?"

"Never mind. It doesn't matter."

Like everyone else, he doesn't see the sigil of Asmodeus. Nor did he hold any power. I finally began to realize just how special I was to the demon. Beetlesmith said Asmodeus had taken an unprecedented personal interest in me... and in Karen. An interest, it would seem, he never showed to Kahelane or possibly to anyone else, until now. Beetlesmith wasn't lying about that.

"Tell me what happened at the end when Beetlesmith's duplicity was revealed," I asked.

Kahelane got up from his chair to put more water on the stove. He didn't say a word. He just stood with his back turned to me waiting for the water to boil. An agonizing silence fell between us that irritated me. Finally, he answered, "I'm not proud of what I did, but I feel it was a necessity. You must understand this if you are to understand my actions in their proper light."

"Go on."

"One day, I think it was in the Spring, and the new moon was approaching, just as its approaching tonight, Beetlesmith revealed everything to me: how much I was fooled and what I had done, the true nature of the elixir, what I was expected to do, and the true nature of the thing behind it all."

"Asmodeus," I said, matter-of-factly.

"Asmodeus," Kahelane scoffed, "Lucifer, Beelzebub, Mammon, they are all the same. Make no mistake, there is only one, but he wears many faces. It uses each to exploit one of the seven great weaknesses of humanity. Lust is the easiest mask it uses to corrupt, because it's our most primal emotion and something very basic to all humanity. In these cases, it takes on the guise of Asmodeus. But it could use our pride or envy or greed, or any of the other seven to corrupt us if need be. It knows how to exploit us, and it's a game it has played well because it has had millennia on top of millennia of practice."

"How do you know this?"

"I don't. Like I said, I'm just guessing at much of this; although, the existence of just one entity representing evil personified conforms more with our own biblical lore."

"Then you don't believe in Beetlesmith's tale of two warring groups of alien beings, the Cruel Ones and the Bright..."

"I don't know what to believe or not believe of that. But think on this, what would an advanced alien race appear to us, if not as gods? Six of one, half dozen of the other as far as I'm concerned, and that difference between the two, gods or aliens, would just be as inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. The results would be the same."

Sitting back down with his tea, he continued, "After the big reveal, I believed everything Beetlesmith told me as far as my purpose in its plans. How could I not? However, in those few days I had in waiting for the new moon, besides turning into a sweaty, gelatinous pile of drek out of fear and anxiety, I did think of the consequences of my purpose. And I resolved to face those consequences head on.

"On the evening of that fateful day, Sean shows up at my door, along with his daughter. I knew immediately it wasn't Sean. It was... Asmodeus, as you call it. It was speaking through Sean. And right there in my doorway it made its final proposition. I was to impregnate my wife and my niece, and they would bear the world sons who would rule with a dreadful might." He paused for a long moment as his eyes watered. Then taking a deep breath, he finished, "I refused."

"I figured as much and Beetlesmith implied as much. I still don't understand how you could have done that, knowing the consequences to your wife, to your niece, to everyone you love or even knew. You still refused? How could you allow that? How could you allow everyone you ever loved to get slaughtered like goats?"

He was shaking in frustration and shame. "What was I supposed to do?! There's more at stake than... than my insignificant life and the lives of those I hold dear. There were... are... billions of lives hanging in the balance. Maybe even all of the unknown number of lives in the whole universe are in the balance if you truly believe what Beetlesmith said, and I had to decide on the lesser of two evils. Either allow everything I love to die, as painful as it was for me, or allow the universe to fall under its dominion."

I mocked him, "It was an easy enough choice for you to make. You're still alive."

"Not for long, as you well know. But I wouldn't call my existence after that day living. A day hasn't gone by where I haven't been tormented by my decision."

"You're a fucking coward! If life is so tough for you, why don't you be a man and end it? Or better still, you could have just offed yourself instead of sacrificing everyone else."

He guessed at my intensions, "I suppose that's your plan, to off yourself."

"If it comes to that, yes. I'll take myself out of the equation before I allow others to die in my place."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

I now took great offence at his cavalier attitude. "What kind of petty question is that? I'll end it any number of fucking ways. I'll step in front of a train. I'll jump off the nearest high bridge. I'll sit in my garage with the car running. I'll even buy a fucking gun, if need be, and put a slug through my fucking skull!"

Before I could react, Kahelane opened a desk drawer, pulled out a pistol, chambered a round, and then pointed it at my head.

"You mean like this?" he said, as he pulled the trigger.

A loud click from the hammer dropping reverberated in the cottage, but the gun didn't fire.

Pulling the hammer back, he then placed the barrel against his temple... *Click*... Just as before, the gun didn't fire.

Then he pointed the pistol at the wall behind me. A loud report exploded in the small confines. I was momentarily stunned. The ringing in my ears was almost painful, and the pervasive smell of cordite filled my nostrils, and behind me, the bare wall was now decorated with a tidy bullet hole.

"In case you don't understand the implications of what you just saw, allow me to demonstrate it again."

He placed the barrel against his temple... *Click* ... then at the wall...

This time I knew enough to cover my ears.

Now two bullet holes, positioned side-by-side, decorated the wall.

Seeing the last ray of hope drain from my face, he looked at me sorrowfully. "Don't you think I would have tried this? The day Beetlesmith told me what I had done and what I'd be required to do, I went home to use this very gun on myself. As you can see, it didn't work."

"How can this even happen? It violates every known natural law of physics..."

"Pretty disconcerting, isn't Mr. Henry? When you realize Newton and Einstein are just the shiny veneer covering the true machinations of the universe.

"As for how this can happen, the duality must be maintained at all costs. It is how the universe is gamed, and so it... or I should say, we... are protected with what I can only describe as supernatural feats." He paused for a moment before continuing rhetorically, "Have you ever heard of the sole survivor? They are rare, but they exist. I'm not talking about a single accident, like a car trash where the driver walks away unharmed, or a little girl that falls down a deep well only to survive. I'm talking about a plane crash, a building fire, a gas explosion that takes out a whole city block, or any number of tragedies that takes scores of lives in an instant; and out of all that carnage and death, a single person miraculously walks away, unharmed.

"Who do you think that sole survivor is? He is one of us. A Yin or Yang caught in the maelstrom of an extraordinary disaster, but because the duality must remain unbroken here on earth, he is protected by an extraordinary act."

I said, despondently, "I'm sorry for calling you a coward. I didn't know. I didn't realize how important this duality is. Isn't there any way to break the cycle?"

"None that I know, or I would have tried it." He thought for a moment, and then added, "I suppose since the creature set all this in motion, he could stop all of it from happening, but you and I know he won't."

"What about the Bright Ones? Why would they continually let this happen?"

"Because that's how the universe..."

"Goddamnit, quit saying that!" I snapped.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. You're forgetting that the rules were set long ago. In other words, the universe is gamed. Remember, Earth is a test. The Bright Ones and the Cruel Ones, as you think of them, try to influence us to do good or evil, and it is up to us with a free will to choose which. Once our choice is made, that's it. They cannot intervene."

"That sounds like hypocritical bullshit. Asmodeus seems to have no problem intervening in our affairs."

"What it is doing is still influence. It's a strong influence, to be sure, but we still had a choice to do good or evil. I'm afraid you and I chose poorly." He saw the dejection of my face. He smiled consolingly, and added, "Take heart. In the game of influence, Heaven is winning."

I almost laughed in his face. "Winning? How so? Aren't you forgetting about the two world wars from the last century alone? What about the millions of innocents thrown into concentration camps, gulags, reeducation camps, or all those people thrown into arenas to fight and die or be eaten by wild animals to satisfy the emperors' and citizens' blood lust? You're forgetting those, too. I won't even mention the individual acts of cruelty. The murderers and serial killers who walk among us to do what they will for their own insidious pleasure. How many hundreds, if not thousands, die needlessly every year by their hand? And don't forget the rule of despots and tyrants who seek power and will do anything to obtain and keep it. Think about all the other incidents where innocent life is taken without rhyme or reason or purpose. The list of evil deeds done in this world since the beginning is near infinite. It seems to me evil is winning. The history of the world gives testimony to that fact."

"You're wrong to think that. I know it seems we are losing, but you're looking at individual acts of evil in and of themselves and not seeing the good acts that have also been done. You must measure the totality, where everything, all the good acts and all the bad acts, are balanced together. In that light, I'd say humanity is far better off than it was a thousand years ago or even a hundred years ago. Think what this world would really be like if we had done more harm than good over that span of time."

He may have been right, but I could not share in his optimism. I remembered that last vision during my transcendental state as the people of the world had totally given in to worshipping the Cruel Ones with blood sacrifice and death. I saw nothing but grotesque displays of evil without even a hint of good. Could a good and virtuous people ever descend to that state without already heading in that direction from the start?

"What's left for me to do?" I asked.

"You have only one choice now, the same choice I had. You must deny the creature want it wants."

"And watch everyone I know and love butchered before my eyes."

He didn't have an answer and just lowered his eyes to the floor.

I felt the walls closing in on me. Kahelane had no answers. Certainly not ones that could help me get out of the mess I created. And the one thing I thought I could do to break the cycle had evaporated when he pointed the gun at my head.

Grasping at straws, I finally said, "You realize it might not have worked."

"What do you mean?"

"The siring of two boys, it probably wouldn't have been successful. Beetlesmith mentioned that down through the ages there were others like you and me... many others. I know this to be true, now."

"And?"

"And when given the choice, some of those, like yourself, refused and immediately paid the price by having their loved ones killed."

"Yes, yes," Kahelane muttered in frustration that I was going over the same guilt-inducing ground.

I continued, "However, I have to believe that some of those in the past did go along with the demon. Yet the plan failed for some reason. It had to have failed or else the world as we know it would have ended long before now."

"Of course."

"Wouldn't Asmodeus still have honored the deal and allow everyone to live out their lives, even if no sons were born?"

"What are you saying? That I should have done what it asked of me in the hope that it doesn't work?"

"Why not?"

"Even if the creature honored the deal, and there's no guarantee it would given its nature, I couldn't take that chance. Nor should you! There's too much at stake. The world... hell, the whole universe sits in the balance. What is the significance of a few lives against all of that?"

"I know this will sound selfish, but I don't know the world or the universe, but I do know those that I love. I can't just watch them die a miserable death while I live on."

"You can't..."

"What difference does it make? We are all doomed anyway! The only thing I have left is to live out the rest of my days in relative peace with my wife and friends."

"Peace? What peace? You must understand if it wins there will be no peace for anyone. Don't you see that's what it wants you to do!"

"We don't know if this plan will ever work! It has failed every time it's been tried. It must have. Why shouldn't it fail again?"

"It only has to succeed once. Are you really prepared to take that chance with so many lives in the balance? Once the sons are born there'll be no way of stopping it."

"Stopping what? We don't even know what their purpose is."

"Does that matter? You, more than anyone know the nature of the thing that set all of this in motion. You know what it has done and what it will do. And you know what will happen to everyone... to everything if it gets what it wants. Isn't that enough? Knowing what it is, you must deny it what it wants."

"It helps to have a more tangible reason if I'm going to have to watch Karen gutted like a fish or Gloria's head crushed like an egg, or Denise gang-raped before having her throat cut, or all the others..."

Kahelane cut me off, saying, "Beetlesmith told you this? You know as well as I that he's a liar. Oh, he mixes in a little truth to give his lies some validity, but he is still a liar."

"He wasn't lying about what will happen to them if I go against... against him."

Kahelane thought on my words for a moment before responding, "Yes, you're right, of course. It's just that I never knew him to get that specific. He usually just talks in generalities and lets you come to the wrong conclusions. Interesting that he treated his dealings with you differently than with me. He seems to have confided in you a lot. What else did he tell you?"

I was reluctant to tell him what Beetlesmith said when I asked him about my sons' purpose. It didn't make any sense in the first place, and I doubt Kahelane could make any sense of it either. I was getting tired of trying to solve riddles wrapped in enigmas. Still...

"I did ask him about what will happen to my sons. At first, he ignored my questions saying it was none of my business. Then right at the end he throws out this biblical reference..."

"Reference? Related to its progeny? What reference?"

"He said if I wanted to know the fate of my sons that I should read Genesis chapter 12 and beyond, for what it's worth."

Kahelane took a book off his desk. I gathered it was a bible. He looked at me sheepishly, and said, "The Jesuits keep leaving them around. I tell them I don't need it, but they leave it here, anyway. I guess in the hope it can save my worthless soul."

As he thumbed through the pages, I said, "It's the story of Abraham and Isaac. It didn't make any sense beyond the similarities to Sarah and Hagar. I guess I'm supposed to sacrifice one of my sons for some fucking reason. That's the only other thing I got out of it. And if that's the case, how fucked up can all of this get? Go through this bullshit to have children, only to kill them. It doesn't make sense."

He didn't answer right off, but after a while he commented, almost vaguely, "To be accurate, Isaac isn't sacrificed. And neither is Ishmael."

Fifteen, twenty minutes dragged by without Kahelane saying anything.

"Well?" I asked, impatiently.

He still didn't answer as he continued to ponder what he read in the text.

Just as I thought, another Beetlesmith riddle meant only to get us to chase our tails. I shouldn't have said anything. "Why don't you forget it," I finally said, "It's just more Beetlesmith bullshit."

Just then, Kahelane closed the book. I could see he was visibly distraught. His hands trembled as he laid the book down.

Looking straight into my eyes, he asked, "You mentioned similarities to Sarah and Hagar, what similarities?"

"Karen and I can't have children of our own, she's barren, just like the Sarah in the story. I assume when the fable mentions Hagar as being a young handmaiden to Sarah, it implies she was virginal. Our friend Gloria is... or was a virgin. Beetlesmith didn't hide his joy about these facts. It was very important to him."

"That has to be it," Kahelane mumbled to himself, "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"What makes sense?" I asked with ever increasing impatience.

Kahelane leaned forward in his chair and forcefully gripped my shoulders and said with a terrible tremor in his voice, "I implore you, you have to deny what the creature wants!"

"Can you just tell me what this is all about without all the drama?"

"Do you know what happens to Isaac and Ishmael after Abraham's test, where he's supposed to sacrifice his son to show God his obedience?"

"I assume Isaac went into therapy after watching his father almost slit his throat."

"Be serious! Abraham's second son, Isaac, goes on to become the progenitor of what we know as the biblical Israelites. In effect, Isaac was the patriarch of Judaism. It is also thought that Abraham's first son, Ishmael, is the father of the Arabs, and it has been implied by many theologians and scholars that Ishmael is the patriarch of Islam. Given that Christianity is an offshoot of Judaism, then Abraham's progeny gave rise to the three great monotheistic religions of the world."

I was unimpressed. "Okay, so what? Abraham's sons gave rise to three religions. What of it?"

"As Isaac and Ishmael were, in essence, progenitors of Judaism, Islam and Christianity, your offspring may represent the exact opposite. They will lead to the destruction of those religions here on earth."

I sat stunned for a moment before hysterically laughing in Kahelane's face.

"This is no laughing matter..."

"Yes it is," I said, as I continued laughing, "This is the cosmic joke of all jokes. For the past two years I've had my life threatened, my loved ones' lives threatened with the grizzliest forms of death, and I've been made to jump through so many hoops to further the ends of this ridiculous plan I could easily replace the dog act in Barnum and Bailey's circus. And for what?! To produce two sons that will supposedly cause the destruction of something so old and antiquated that it has little meaning, value, or significance today. Look at the churches here and across Europe. Empty! Who the fuck is following these products of backwards-thinking charlatans and thieves but the imbecilic masses and violent idiots who can't or won't think for themselves?"

"I know it's hard for you to believe but..."

"Of course I believe, now. I believe in some higher power directing our lives, using us as pawns. How can I not? But religion? I've never had use for any of it, and with good reason. The full weight of evil done in the world in the name of these religions could shatter the globe if there was any real substance to it. And that's all it's good for, giving disreputable cocksuckers justification to cheat, steal, and murder their fellow man, and all in the name of God. And let's be honest, Kahelane, all of these so-called religions are already busy destroying themselves on their own. Why in fuck's name do I have to be involved in any of this shit? Jesus, let these institutions continue to die by their own accord and leave me and my loved ones out of it!"

"Mr. Henry, you're only looking at religion one-sidedly. Yes, religion has been used to do a great deal of harm, but you're not looking at the totality. These religions have also guided mankind to do good, as well.

"Religion is a tool. In its simplest form, it provides a guide for us to yearn and to seek out goodness and justice and surprisingly, truth. As with our conscience, it provides a blueprint on how we can and should live together without wanting to kill each other every day."

I was about to laugh in his face again, but he raised his hand stopping me.

"However, as with all tools, religion can also be used by the unscrupulous to do great harm. Consider the analogy of a knife. In the hands of a surgeon, it can save lives, but in the hands of a maniac, it can take lives. Does this make the knife good or bad? The answer is neither. The knife is only as good or bad as the hand that wields it, nothing more. The ultimate purpose of the knife is to cut, and given the nature of the person using it, it could be a curse or a blessing. It's the same with religion, the ultimate purpose of which is to uplift and to help us seek a higher good. However, it can still be used to deceive if placed in the wrong hands.

"I know most religions in the world are not as popular as they once were, and there have been other times in the past they were just as unpopular. However, even though they were unpopular, they were always present and provided a ladder for individuals to climb out of their despair during dark times. And that is the key. Popular or unpopular, they exist to be used as guides for anyone who needs them. Now, if these religions are destroyed as the creature wishes, there will be no way humanity can find a way back into the light. That's why you must not go through with what the demon wants."

"There are other religions, Hinduism, Buddhism, other smaller factions. Certainly, they provide guidance and comfort for people who need it. Why doesn't Asmodeus want these religions done away with as well?"

"Buddhism is more a philosophy than a religion. I can't speak for the others, but most are just variations of the three I mentioned. What I do know is that if I'm right, this is the creature's end game. The destruction of the three, great, monotheistic religions on earth. So, I say again with even greater emphasis, you must deny it what it wants!"

I thought about his words and still couldn't believe it. The fact I had to choose between either throwing away what I deeply cherished for something I thought meaningless was the height of waste. I felt much like that union soldier given orders by some no-nothing general who wasn't worth a bucket of warm piss to march toward the stonewall at Fredericksburg, knowing full well he gets it right in the head for his troubles.

Then I remembered the last thing Asmodeus said to me in my dreams when I questioned the effectiveness of the Bright Ones' influencing humanity, especially when compared to the strong influence of the Cruel Ones. His answer surprised me. He just smiled and said their influence had been right under my nose throughout my life.

If Kahelane is correct, then the influence Asmodeus hinted at was the world's religions. Hard for me to believe, it all made sense, now. The Bright Ones played the long game, much more than Asmodeus or the Cruel Ones, who were relying on short, temporary avenues of influence effecting only a person at a time. The Bright Ones' plans, however, were established early, when the world was young and malleable, where the foundations of those plans could be set deep. They had established long-lasting pathways that connected humanity to them. Not just one or two at a time, but whole nations could fall under their influence, and as long as we stayed on those pathways, we would be safe.

According to Kahelane, the task for my progeny will be to destroy those pathways, thus disconnecting humanity from the Bright Ones, forever.

After a while, Kahelane broke the silence that had fallen between us, "As you well know, I can't force you to do anything. I can't even tell you what to do. This is your choice and yours along, but so much hangs in the balance with your decision."

"Decision you say. My decision, my destiny, has been taken from me. If there ever was a promise of paradise, harps and angels' wings and all things warm and perfect, those ends were lost to me the minute I walked into Beetlesmith's shop. All I have left is the possibility, as slim as it may be, to live out the rest of my life with Karen.

"So, you would trade the world and everyone in it for just a few more years with your wife?"

Frustrated and angry and sick with guilt, I blurted, "I don't know or care about the fucking world, but I do care about Karen, and I can't watch as she's butchered along with everyone else I love."

Kahelane didn't say anything else and just sat staring at me as he puffed on his pipe.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, and then continued, "There is one other thing I buy if I agree to Asmodeus' wishes. I buy time."

"Yes, I understand. Time to be with your wife before the end, but you're being...."

"No. Time to give everyone a chance at redemption. That's something you denied everyone when you refused to go along."

"You think there can be redemption for us?"

"Maybe not for you and me, but maybe for others if they are willing. I won't go into details, and I can't explain how I know this, but I know a person who I thought could redeem herself given the chance. Mistakenly, and to my ever-loving shame and dishonor, I denied her that chance. But now, maybe I can buy the world enough time for redemption before my sons assume power. I have to hope I can still change the course of these coming events."

Kahelane was surprised by my reasons and nodded his head as some form of agreement, then he said, "Hope is a good thing to have. You will need it for what is coming. Hope is the quintessential human quality, I think. No other species on this planet or probably even in the universe possesses our unique brand of optimism that hope provides. However, hope is a funny thing, because having hope can be both the blessing and the curse of the human race.

"When it's a blessing, it gives us strength to live. Like the soul lost at sea, who, with little food or water left, still hopes a search party will find them. In that instance, hope keeps them going for another day... and another... and another. It keeps them alive hoping they will eventually be found.

"But then there's the hope of curses that keeps us going along the wrong path to destruction. It is said that the one trick the wicked use to subjugate their captives is to offer them hope that they will eventually survive their ordeal. It's a lie, of course, but the victim latches on to that one trinket of hope, making them more compliant and subservient to evil's desires. It keeps the victim going through insurmountable suffering with the hope that they will live, but in the end, they are slaughtered anyway. This is the hope the demon offers you."

"Aren't they the same thing really? Both the blessing and the curse keep us going."

"No. The blessing of hope is born from somewhere within ourselves, uplifting us; whereas the curse of hope is the lie told by the deceivers to suppress us, and crushes us into ourselves. In your coming dealings with the demon, ignore its coercion and seduction, and instead listen to that little voice of hope that may come from within."

He stood up and extended his hand to me. "The new moon occurs tonight, and there will be no more tomorrows for me. I will just say goodbye and hope that you will make the right decision."